


The Howling Wolves

by MaroonDragon



Series: Stories HDHale made me write [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Deucalion (Mentioned) - Freeform, Drabble, Drummer Stiles Stilinski, M/M, M/M/M, Polyamory, Rockstar Chris, Rockstar Peter, Stetopher - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:36:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22393399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaroonDragon/pseuds/MaroonDragon
Summary: The Howling Wolves were once a well-known rock band until they faded into oblivion. Stiles is a twenty-year-old drummer who has spent the last five years listening to their albums hoping for a chance to see them perform. Who knows, he might even get a chance to bang with them (on the drums of course).
Relationships: Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Stories HDHale made me write [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1184072
Comments: 19
Kudos: 252





	The Howling Wolves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HDHale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HDHale/gifts).



> I wrote this for the amazing HD-Hale as this was originally a prompt of his on tumblr, and I wanted to do something fun with it.  
> https://hd-hale.tumblr.com/post/190350625540/hd-hale-stetopher-band-au-sleeping-with-former
> 
> I'm sorry if it's a bit rushed, and not beta-read, as I wrote this today, and my brain has been fried from work after a full week. I do hope you enjoy my first attempt at Stetopher!

Stiles feels jittery as he steps into the smoke-filled bar, pocketing his fake ID as he goes. There is a poster slapped against the wall proclaiming that ‘The Howling Wolves’ are playing that night and he is almost tempted to tear it off the wall and take it home with him. It’s not like anyone will actually care much about it. Most of the people present are the same old regulars, with here and there some men and women who clearly showed up out of a sense of nostalgia. Most likely, that poster will be put in the trash the moment the night is over, and the fact that ‘The howling Wolves’ played there at all will be an almost forgotten memory for the people present.

He settles himself in one of the leather boots with a good view of the stage, texting Scott a quick message that he’s gotten in without a hitch, before pocketing his phone. Knowing Scott, he’s probably already at third base with his current girlfriend and has long forgotten that Stiles was planning to see the band he had admired for so long for the first time. Scott certainly didn’t get why Stiles liked them so much in the first place, and Stiles isn’t going to bother explaining it to him -again-. Sipping the beer he had grabbed at the bar as he had made his way through the room, his fingers instinctively start to tap out the beat to one of his favourite songs, waiting eagerly for the men to arrive.

* * *

The band hadn’t always been some long-forgotten relic of the past. Peter, Chris and Deucalion had actually done extremely well, given that they had started in an unknown place like Beacon Hills. They had gotten together during high school, and by the time they should have been halfway through college, they were already touring the States, with a few trips to Europe on the books as well. Their songs were still played on occasion when you tuned in to the ‘classics’. Their fame had fizzled out when their drummer Deucalion left due to personal differences, and the news had broken that Peter and Chris were more than just band- and roommates. Being gay went against the rough rocker culture for some, and it also affected their not inconsequential female base who had all been hoping for a night with one of the men. Separately, Deucalion’s departure and their coming out, should not have been enough to break their winning streak but combined it meant their popularity took a nosedive until it was just Peter and Chris playing with some stand-in drummer in the bars of Beacon county.

Stiles had been a drummer since he was seven years old, and his mother had suggested he might actually try and do something with his need to constantly move. He had gotten a miniature kit two months after starting lessons, and by the sixth month, his dad had fully soundproofed the basement to make sure he didn’t have to listen to noise all hours of the day. Stiles had spent a lot of time in that basement after his mom died. He was good at it too. He had an ear for music, even his music teacher said so. That didn’t mean he didn’t have to work for it, but he had picked up several other instruments alongside the drums, even if they would never surpass his first love.

He had found the albums while sorting through his mother’s things to see what needed to be donated when he was fifteen. The first thing that had actually caught his attention was the black and white picture of a shirtless guy in his early twenties on the back of one of them, with a guitar hanging around his neck. He was attractive Stiles supposed, having figured out he wasn’t all that straight only a year before, but it was mostly the pretentiousness of putting that picture on the back that amused him. The cover was a pretty standard flashy design typical of the time, but it was the autograph that made him pause. His mother had clearly been a fan if she had bothered to actually get it signed. She hadn’t really been into music as far as he was aware, and given that he must have been three at the time it was released, he doubted she’d gone to see them in the hopes of becoming a groupie. So he decided to put it on and see why this particular band had captured her attention, and from the first guitar intro Stiles had been sure that the guy could be as pretentious as he liked if he played like that.

So here he was, after spending years of listening to their old records, learning their songs, and finally being old enough to at least pass for twenty-one (which turned out to be twenty and the bouncer still looked twice at his ID before letting him through), he would finally be able to see them live.

* * *

It was a disaster.

Not Peter and Chris, they were still as great as they had been back in the day, and in Stiles opinion far more attractive than the old album covers ever showed, but their drummer was just off. The acoustics of the place were also hell, as well as the rather awkward clapping whenever a song finished. Those who had come to see the band were actually kind of enthusiastic, and Stiles could see some of the regulars did pitch in here and there, but the place was hardly packed and it just made it seem more like a local new band giving their first performance than one that actually had a couple of records to their name. There just wasn’t much life to the whole performance, and Stiles’ hope of possibly hearing new songs was also dashed. Apparently, the critics were right when they said Deucalion had been the only one able to write proper songs.

* * *

Getting backstage is hardly a difficult feat. There were no fans crowding the stage after all, and after pretending to head for the loo, Stiles just happens to take the wrong door to lead him down the corridor to where the ‘artists’ got to stay. The show might not have been what he had hoped for, but Chris and Peter do have skills, and he would love to pick their brain about that.

“I’m not doing this again, Chris. I’m done.” He recognizes Peter immediately, and he pauses in the hallway, not wanting to suddenly drop in on the wrong conversation.

“Look, it wasn’t great, but you love performing. In two months you’re going to be bitchy again and looking for venues to play at. You say this every time.”

“I’m not just talking about the venue, or the terrible public, but also about having to find a different drummer each time. Let's face it, we haven’t been ‘The Howling Wolves’ in a long time, and putting on crappy performances that aren’t even half of what we used to do just feels fucking cheap.”

Stiles has to admit, the guy has a point. Even those who had come for the nostalgia of things had stopped participating near the end of the show and had focussed more on their drinks and conversation. Still, he’d rather not stick around in the hallway listening to the dissolution of a band he had enjoyed for so long -even if technically that dissolution had happened before he was even listening to them with the departure of Deucalion-.

“Uh…hi, I’m Stiles. I’m a big fan.” He starts as he pushes his way into the room. He falters slightly as he’s pinned down by two pairs of startling blue eyes, who look both amused and annoyed at his interruption.

“Look, your show was rather shitty.” He gets an arched eyebrow for that comment. “But you guys are really good, and I’ve been listening to your albums for like forever. You’re also ridiculously hot. Like seriously, I don’t get why you don’t have a bigger following for that alone.”

He knows he’s rambling and that he really needs to wrap things up before he says more embarrassing things. “What I mean is, I would really like to buy you a drink and maybe bang sometimes. I mean the instruments, not the other kind of banging! I mean, not that I would mind that either, but I mean I’d like to pick your brains.”

He really hopes that he talked too fast for them to catch even half of that, but given that they both seem terribly amused, he doubts that that is the case.

“How old are you kid? And don’t tell me twenty-one, because I’m not buying it.” Chris really looks ridiculously good in his tightly fitted black shirt. It actually takes Stiles a moment to focus because the man just stood up and said shirt has just ridden up a bit to show a lovely happy trail.

“I’m twenty.” Stiles finally admits. “I swear! You can check my real ID.” He adds when the men still look at him dubiously.

“Well then, Chris, I think we should probably take the kid out of here. He’s breaking the law after all, and he did say he wanted to bang with us.” Stiles is pretty sure his brain fries itself when Peter throws an arm around his shoulder to look at his partner.

“Yes, I suppose we should be upstanding citizens. Can’t give rock a bad name after all.” Stiles doesn’t know how he ended up with two men staring at him like he was a delicious meal, but he can’t say he’s complaining. He can pick up the car in the morning.

* * *

Stiles didn’t actually mean to snoop, but really, how much sleep does a person need? Even after the very intense night, and the fact that he woke up in the arms of not one, but two, hot men, he still was not able to stay in bed after having woken up around eight. So he had untangled himself from Peter, who had immediately curled himself around Chris without Stiles there as a buffer, and after putting on a shirt and some boxers, he had gone downstairs.

His intention had been to just go down, maybe put some coffee on, and then play on his phone until the old timers woke up -though he can’t complain about their stamina, given the night before-. That plan was completely derailed by the fact that Peter and Chris have a studio in their home.

“Oh, you are a beauty.” He murmurs as his fingers glide across the sleek wood of the baby grand piano lovingly dubbed ‘Cry Baby’ which actually featured as an album cover. There are several more guitars that he would love to put his hands all over, but those have to wait in favour of the drum kit.

He can see the many signatures on the kit from the bands they had opened for back in the day, which means Deucalion probably left it behind when he left. Stiles doesn’t really know how anyone can leave their instrument behind, but for now he will not complain as he settles on the chair and picks up the drumsticks. Twirling it in his fingers, he tests out their weight in the palm of his hands.

“Alright, let’s see what you can do.” He grins. The kit is set up a little differently from what he’s used to, but it feels amazing to play on the same set the famous Deucalion once did. Stiles can just imagine what it would have been like to sit behind Chris and Peter and hear the crowds cheer as he plays the set for ‘Moon Drunk’ and ‘Cry Baby’.

It actually takes him a little while to notice that there is a guitar being played in the room, rather than his head, and when Stiles opens his eyes, there is Peter, with his hair messy and still shirtless, playing along to his drum, while Chris is just grabbing his own. It feels only natural to spin away from their setlist and riff off one another to try and create new sounds.

“So, I guess you were serious about wanting to bang with us.” Peter grins when they take a breather. Stiles would say playing with them was better than sex, but he knows what sex with them is like so that would be a lie. “What else can you do?”

“Well, I had some ideas for some new song lyrics…”

* * *

**TWO YEARS LATER:**

> 'STILES STILINSKI: THE MUSE OF ROCK!'  
>   
> 'THE HOWLING WOLVES MAKE A ROARING COMEBACK!'  
>   
> 'BEACON HILLS BASTARDS: THE HOWLING WOLVES ARE RAGING ONCE MORE.'

'NEW BLOOD MAKES THE WOLVES HOWL AGAIN!'  
  
'AN INTERVIEW WITH THE WOLVES: LOVE, LUST, AND HOW TO BE GAY AND ROCK IT!'

**Author's Note:**

> I was a bit stuck on the name for their band, so I used a band name generator where you could fill in several things and it would give you a list. I went for one that actually fit, but do enjoy the beautiful suggestions of:  
> The Beacon Hills Strippers  
> The Love of Men  
> The Rock P Experience  
> Moon, Men and Wolves  
> Moon of the Wild Men  
> The Rock Peter Project
> 
> And my personal favourite:  
> Why Wolves, Why?


End file.
